Blowing in The Shadows
by Rahainia
Summary: Doriana returns, helping Bo to learn more about the Fae world. There is a Fae murder for the group to solve. Kenzi becomes a mommy. Bo spends time with The Morgan. Some fighting. Some bloodshed. Some Bo-on-Dyson. 2nd in "The Shadows" series.


[Author's Note - Story is currently at a T rating. It may be raised to M with a later chapter. The story outline has been completed, so now it's just a matter of sitting down and pulling it all together...in between business trips, wrestling with my dog and hanging out at the stable.]

**Chapter 1**

To say that it was a dark and stormy night would have been too cliché…but truly dark and stormy didn't even come close to describing the frightful weather. Curtains of rain pummeled the ground, the masses of drops ricocheting upwards at nearly the same speed, causing those poor unfortunate souls who were out in the storm to believe that it was raining in both directions.

A brilliant, jagged bolt of lighting streaked through the sky, lighting up the buildings in the neighbourhood. It was a rather affluent little burb, populated with large homes supported by even larger bank accounts. Old oak and elm trees decorated the sides of the streets; even their strong branches were whipped about in the storm's frenzy.

Parked in a driveway, safe from the possibility of a falling tree, a lone SUV idled gently as the inevitable thunder rolled through. The radio inside was on, but did little to mask the pounding of the rain on the roof. A woman's voice, raspy from too many long shifts and too many cigarettes, pumped out of the car's speakers and discussed the freak storm that come upon the city, catching everyone unawares. The radar had shown no active cells, she proclaimed. The nearby counties gave no warning, she protested. And the storm wasn't moving off, she explained. It was simply a bizarre storm system and the safest things for her 'dear listeners' to do was remain indoors, keep away from windows, and stay tuned for more weather updates.

The man inside the SUV sighed and reached out to turn the car stereo off. He looked out the windshield, trying to see through the cascade of rain sheeting against the glass. The outside house lights were on but they proved ineffective at illuminating his way through the stormy darkness. There should have been nothing to cause him to trip or slow down his sprint from the car to the house, but he was also the type to take nothing for granted. He planned everything…accounted for every variable. This helped him to get where he had in life.

~ She's in a mood. ~ He thought to himself, squinting through the wide rivulets on the windshield. ~ It's the only explanation. I wonder why…she was fine earlier. ~

Realizing that he could not simply sit in his vehicle for the rest of the night, the man reached over to the passenger seat, grabbing his coat and cell phone. It showed two missed calls and two voice mails.

~ She knows not to call me when I've told her I'm in meetings. ~ He mused, frowning. Deleting the voice mail messages without listening to them, the man slipped the phone inside a coat pocket and awkwardly shrugged himself into the water-repellant jacket. He turned the vehicle off and pocketed the keys.

Taking a deep breath, as if he was about to plunge into the deepest of oceans, he opened the car door and hopped out. The man slammed the door shut and dashed across the driveway, up the flag stones to the protective covering of the front porch. Sheltered somewhat from the storm, only a fine mist whirled and whipped its way into his face as he leaned forward and remotely locked his car with his keys.

Taking another deep breath and rolling his shoulders, the man threw a smile on to his face as he entered the house, calling out "Hi, honey! I'm home!"

Yes, it was a night for clichés.

-\- Lost Girl -/-

An off-key warble filtered through the Fae din at The Dell. Even Trick looked up, ceasing to dry a wine glass. The gnome frowned, scanning the crowd in search of the source. More than a few of the Fae patrons eyed their drinks warily, waiting to see if the now near-screeching trill would shatter the glassware.

"Did no one ever teach you how to carry a tune?" Hale winced in pain, covering his ears.

"Hey, not all of us are born with musical talent." Kenzi shot back, ceasing her attempt to sing a song taught to most Fae in their childhood.

"Don't hate the player." The male siren grinned. "I'm glad you want to learn a bit more about us, but I never thought you'd be so tone deaf."

"She's not tone-deaf." Bo pronounced, placing a tray of glass mugs filled with Trick's special ale on coffee table before settling in the couch in their semi-private booth. "Kenzi is simply musically challenged."

"There are no special parking privileges with that disability." Hale said, reaching for a mug.

"Who's disabled?" Dyson asked, appearing in the frame of the entry to their gathering spot at The Dell. He was drenched, tiny rivulets of water formed small rivers down his face. The were-fae swiped at the wetness.

"I thought I smelled wet dog." Kenzi joked, playfully wrinkling her nose. "Just don't shake in here, will ya?"

Growling softly, Dyson lunged forward and wrapped his strong arms around Kenzi, effectively soaking the young woman. Kenzi shrieked at the coldness of the water, seeping through her clothing.

"Kenzi, enough with the singing!" Trick shouted from the bar, mistaking the yelp for yet another musical attempt.

"Then make him stay in the mud room until his paws are dry!" Kenzi yelled back, ducking her head under the tall man's arm.

Dyson grinned and released Kenzi from his grasp. He ran a hand through his hair, the damp curls sprinkling water on the floor.

"Would you a like mop so that you can do the rest of my floors?" Trick asked, approaching the group with a larger towel in his hands. The gnome tossed the towel to Dyson, who gamely caught it.

Trick slid his gaze over to Kenzi and remarked, "I thought you were just a human. Judging by your voice, I'm guessing you might have some harpy in you…or banshee."

"Oh, I wasn't that bad, was I?"

Bo wrapped an arm around her roommate.

"Honey, when it comes to singing, I'd rather listen to the Smurfs sing Inglebert Humperdink's greatest hits than that noise which came from you."

Dyson looked around the group, confused.

"I'm trying to teach her 'The Pixie's Laugh'." Hale explained. "It seemed simple enough when we were kids."

"It was not made for human voices." Trick explained to the siren.

Kenzi flopped herself down on to the couch beside Bo and crossed her arms. A petulant look materialized on her face.

"Well, nothing beats 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'. Now THERE'S a classic."

Bo grinned and looked at the male Fae with a what-did-you-expect look. Sighing, Trick strolled back to his spot behind the bar's wooden counter.

Dyson towel-dried his hair and dropped the now damp fabric on the floor by the table before sitting on the wing chair closest to Bo. His position did not go unnoticed by Kenzi and Hale, who merely grinned.

"What?" Dyson asked.

"Nothing." Hale replied, the grin never leaving his face.

"Gotta love being on Team Dyson, right, Bo?" Kenzi laughed, elbowing the succubus.

"Am I missing something here?" Bo asked, her turn to be confused.

"You and me both." Dyson muttered.

"So, still raining outside?" Hale asked, watching Dyson shrug out of his leather coat. The siren determined it was best to change the topic.

"Lemme guess…raining cats and dogs?" Kenzi grinned. Even Bo looked rather amused, waiting for Dyson's response. The smiles left their faces at the seriousness on the were-fae's response.

"It's not a normal rain."

"Are you telling us that the Fae can control the weather, too?" Bo asked in disbelief.

"Mother Nature's Fae?" Kenzi demanded.

"There's no such thing as Mother Nature." Dyson replied.

"Yeah, and I used to think the Fae were fairy dust creatures imagined up by people to help pass the time before television was invented." Kenzi mumbled, cramming a chip into her mouth. "Look how that belief turned out."

"Ignore her." Bo leaned forward. "Are you saying this weather is created by Fae?"

"It's possible." Dyson said. "But so far, no harm has come to anyone so there's no point in worrying about it. It'll pass."

"What kind of Fae can create a storm like this?" The succubus leaned forward, thirsty for knowledge.

"Keep studying Trick's books and you'll figure it out yourself." Dyson replied.

"Hey, when did we suddenly go all teacher-student?" Bo asked, a frown appearing on her face.

"He's like Obi-Wan to your Anniken." Kenzi grinned.

"Remind me how that relationship turned out again?" Hale prompted the young woman. The grin quickly left her face. Kenzi turned to Bo quickly.

"Oh gee…that's not what I meant…I mean, you're not going over to the Dark Side." She stammered out to her older roommate.

Bo smiled gently.

"Kenzi, it's okay. I'm not Dark…I'm not Light, either. I'm me."

"Phew. I'm glad. I like you when you're you." Kenzi hugged Bo.

Dyson leaned back, his light eyes taking in Bo's response to the suggestion that she could be Dark Fae. His wolf-like senses picked up on subtle signs, movement, heart rate, changes in scent…anything that could imply Bo was lying about where her loyalties lay. He exhaled slowly, quietly, satisfied that Bo was telling the truth…she was not Dark.

~ Unfortunately, she's not Light, either. How I wish I could tell her what she is…who she is…and who I want her to be. ~ A stoic mask settled over Dyson's face.

"Why so glum, chum?" Kenzi picked up on the coolness radiating from Dyson.

"You have more mood swings than a woman." Bo jokingly chided.

-\- Lost Girl -/-

"I was beginning to wonder when you'd come home." A sultry voice greeted him.

Looking up, the man grinned at the sight walking down the stairs. Deep brown hair, with hints of red in it, tumbled down her shoulders. Black silk with a red floral pattern hugged her body. Tiny straps held the silky creation on her body, ending just above her knees. A long slit on one side allowed him to view more of her leg than was publically decent. Then again, they weren't in public.

"The storm's a bugger…it held me up." The words flowed effortlessly from his mouth.

"I see." Brown eyes glinted in the dim foyer lighting as she came closer.

Suddenly, the man realized that it was darker than normal in the main hallway. Looking around, he took in the candles…lots and lots of candles. He grinned, confidently…seductively.

"I hope I didn't ruin any of your plans." He shrugged out of his coat. It hit the ceramic tiles of the floor with a thunk. His cellphone.

The woman glanced at the expensive coat with its water-repellent material.

"Did you get my calls?" She asked.

"Yes. But you know that when I say I'm in meetings, it's pointless to expect me to answer."

She pouted prettily. "You can listen to the voice mail messages when you're free."

"True." His grin deepened as he stepped forward, ready to take the woman into his arms. She danced out of his way.

"So, did you pick up the wine like I asked in my messages?" She asked.

"Of course…but it's out in the SUV…and, I don't know if you've noticed, but it's stormy out there. And I think there's a different kind of storm in here that I'd rather go through."

The woman's face hardened.

"I didn't ask you to pick up wine." Brown eyes flashed dangerously. "You didn't listen to my messages. You weren't in meetings, were you? You were with a woman."

"Honey, please…I've had a rough day. Coming home to see you like this was just what I needed. Don't spoil it with a fight."

"You liar!" The woman spat. "You aren't denying anything! You're deflecting! You're a lying…cheating…son of a…"

She raised her hand, as if to slap him. Flames shot out of her finger tips

"Who is she?" She asked coldly.

"Babe, you're jumping to conclusions." He held his hands out, hoping to lull her into his arms.

"You mean, it's a him?" She snorted in disbelief.

"Puh-lease…as if."

"So, you admit you're having an affair…with a woman." She shrieked, lunging forward. He jumped out of the way, but wasn't fast enough. Her hands skidded across his waist, singeing his shirt. Grey smoke wafted up and he smelled burnt cotton. He looked down and saw the burnt rips in the material. His nose wrinkled at the smell of the acrid smoke.

"Sweetness, I love…" Any words of his were lost as flames danced from her hands, enveloping him in their tongues of orange and yellow and red. He tried to avoid them, but any attempt to move right or left was blocked by fire. He looked up the stairs and started to run up them. A wall of flame appeared just a few steps up. "What are you doing?"

"Ensuring that you never cheat on me again." She yelled, bursts of fire spitting out from her hands. The solid pulses of flame hit him, instantly covering him in fire.

He screamed in agony, dropping to the ground and attempting to roll the flames out. The fire continued to eat at him, greedily devouring his clothing and consuming his hair. His shrieks pierced the air but with the storm outside, no neighbours heard. There was no one to help him. No one to call for the police. His skin blistered and puckered, bursting in small pockets to reveal the muscles and tissues beneath. The flames eagerly licked at the new food.

"Come forth, my babies….come to me." She called out. The flames on the candles in the foyer grew in strength and intensity. The slender flares became taller, eventually bending at the tops and arcing through the air. They joined the fire consuming the man wrapping around his legs and arms and holding him still.

Opening his mouth to scream again, one lone flame leapt down his mouth, burning his tongue, his throat, his lungs. Unable to breath, he watched her taking in his torture with satisfied revenge. He tried to blink as her imaged began to fade…but his eyelids had melted. He tried to scream…but he could not breathe. He tried to pass out but the fire would not let him.

His last thought was of the storm and her…


End file.
